Quote of the Day

Me: I feel like I look old.

My friend, Nikki: No, no. When I look at you I see funny. And boobs.

Getting All Dolly-ed Up

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yes?"

I hold up a clearly outdated, faded sweater with a Christmas scene appliqued on the front that I unearthed in our catch-all room. "First of all, let's discuss why you still have this. And secondly, let's discuss if I can scavenge it." I hold it up in front of me.

"That's really old. And ugly. What do you need it for?"

"I'm going to cut out the shoulder pads."

"What for?"

"I need more boobs for my Dolly Parton costume, and these are the optimal shape."

(I cut. I stuff. I return.)

"Wow," she says. "That's a whole lotta boob."

Lift & Separate: A Tale of Two Boobs

Confession: For most of my adult life, I've been wearing the incorrect bra size.

It's true. And I am going public with this information for any of my readers who may also be suffering from IBS (Incorrect Bra Sizing).

I arrived at the bra size I've been wearing through trial and error - trying on bras and giving my best guess at which one fit right. But today, I said modesty be damned and allowed the lingerie assistant at Nordstrom's to help me find the right bra. Turns out that the La Mystere bra that Oprah loves, and which I had been wearing, isn't so right for me. And to add insult to injury, I've been wearing the wrong size bra by a long shot.

I know I'm not the only one out there confused about what bra size I should be wearing. In fact, my mom was wearing the wrong size, too. I was slightly befuddled at being 27 and finding myself asking the the assistant, "So how should the bra fit?" Here's a hint: you should not, as I was, be using the straps to hitch the girls up.

And once I had on the right size - and after I had recovered from the astounding cup size from further down the alphabet than I would've liked -I was amazed at the results of a little lift and separate. I discovered that the size of my bust does not mean I must endure a painful bra with digging shoulder straps and an underwire hellbent to break my ribcage. Forget the truth - the right bra size will set you free. For those of you who wish to follow in my footsteps, I support you. And your bra will, too.

I'm Bringing Sexy Back

I had a dream last night that I went to a Justin Timberlake concert topless. I've never been to a Justin Timberlake concert. And I've never been to a concert topless. I was trying to keep covered, but whoever I was with (who was a friend but a vague nonspecific dream friend) was like, "Don't cover up. He's looking at you! We'll be able to get backstage!"

But I'm still trying to cover up and Justin Timberlake comes over to us and is all, "Whoah! Whoah! I gotta see this! Lemme see!" And so I showed him my boobs. And he invited us to go backstage. He was very nice. I quickly relaxed about being topless. As though it was okay with me if it was okay with Justin Timberlake.

HOW WEIRD is that?? But hilarious. Definitely hilarious. Especially that moment where I just held out my arms and was like, "Here are my boobs, Justin Timberlake."